The Friends of Humanity Academy (Submit a Mutant)
by MyOtherPersonality
Summary: After the fight with Apocalypse, public opinion towards mutants has gone from bad to worse. Graydon Creed announces his new plan for a very special school- where young mutants can go for help, for a "cure." However, behind the walls of the FOH Academy is a dark secret, and the children must come together to survive. SYOC- OPEN! EIGHT SPOTS LEFT.
1. Chapter 1

With a small squeal of feedback, the microphone sprang to life. The man standing behind it cleared his throat and smoothed a precursory hand over what he knew was perfectly gelled hair. He scanned the room, arching an eyebrow.

Closest to the front were a pack of paparazzi, each angling to get their microphone closest to the podium he stood behind. Their faces were alit in a disgusting display of hero-worship and predatory hunger; one woman was practically salivating. Not that it was surprising, coming from the press- the scum of the earth, but damn good spin doctors. What with the recent panic about mutants, they'd turned him into a messiah of the human race. He could shoot a defenseless senior citizen and they'd call it self-defense. Shooting a sneer at the woman closest to the front, he was rewarded with a blush and giggle.

Behind them stood his target audience, each from the age of twenty five to fifty. All furrowed brows and pursed lips, and several nervous glances at the crowd around them; as though they'd forgotten they were here under the exact same circumstances. More than a few had their arms wrapped possessively around uncomfortable looking children, and he saw at least one toddler straining futilely to escape their grasp. They had come to this press release from miles away, from every possible background, but they all had one thing in common: each was showing off a bright red "MCA: HERE TO STAY" T-shirt. A few held banners that said things like "FIX OUR CHILDREN" or "THEY DESERVE BETTER." He smiled. Paranoid parents; you could always trust them to hitch themselves to whatever bandwagon winked cheerfully and threw around some big words.

Behind them was the problem. A large crowd of… He curled his lip slightly. _Freaks._ Their eyes held the anger and disgust he felt bubbling deep in his stomach. Shunned from the conference seats, they stood in a line along the back wall like an army ready to march. All ages, all colors- including some that were definitely _not_ found in nature- stood arm in arm, ready to fight. A homemade banner fluttered between a few teenagers: "WE ARE NOT INVISIBLE."

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the line of mutants to lean forward and finally address the anxious crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for coming out today. I'm sure you are all anxious to hear my little announcement." A small murmur from the crowd, a few robotic nods. He smiled; they were like _sheep._

"The increasing effect that the mutant problem-" A few cries from the back. "-has had on our country has not gone unnoticed. Riots in the streets. Danger to our families. And now, after the incident with this so-called 'Apocalypse' that resulted in the entire planet being thrown into chaos, it is clear that these 'mutants' must be behind the rising threat."

"That's a lie!" One of the freaks started forward, arms wrapped in long sleeves and gloves despite the heat of the summer. Her face was crinkled into a scowl, bright white bangs hanging in her eyes. "We are NOT a 'problem'- all we've been doing is trying to protect you!"

"Yeah!" A girl in pink stepped forward, arms crossed. "We saved all of you- Apocalypse would have like, destroyed the planet! You should be throwing us a parade, not sending us to prison!" A college-aged boy in dark glasses murmured to the both of them, and they reluctantly stepped back into line.

"My dear girl," he purred into the microphone. "Who said anything about sending you to prison? I want nothing more than for the mutant population to feel _safe._ All the Mutant Control Agency has attempted to do is bring some sense of balance and assistance to their lives."

"You shut down our school!" A boy stepped forward, and the room's murmuring grew louder. He was an abomination; blue fur, spiked tail, and only three fingers on each hand. He growled at the crowd, showing off pointed teeth. A mother in the second row clutched her daughter to her chest. The boy shrank slightly, but pointed a finger at the podium. "You kicked us out, you turned us into fugitives in our own home. In what world is that 'balance and assistance?'"

The man at the podium smiled at the mutant boy through a mouthful of bile. "Son, your 'school' has been connected to several instances of outstanding public damage charges. True or false?"

The boy growled, flicking his tail. "True, I guess. But we're also connected to _fixing_ those problems afterwards!"

"Break a vase and glue it back together, it still holds the cracks," the speaker said smoothly. "It was clear to my agency that the children in your care were going to receive better care outside of your walls, as well as a chance at a normal life."

"We _are_ normal!" shouted a voice from the back, met by cheers and applause from the mutants.

The speaker managed a sympathetic smile. "Normal? Son, what about you? Look at yourself. Wouldn't you like to walk down the street without stares and whispers following you? To be able to grow up and have love? Have a family?"

The blue mutant's gaze hardened to pure steel. "I spent too many years of my life trying to hide who I was, for the benefit of people like you. For your information, _sir_ , I have love and family right here. And I am not giving it up for a closed-minded bigot!" He punched a fist into the air. "Mutant and PROUD!" His allies burst into cheers, and the parents in the front began to look to the podium uncomfortably.

"I appreciate your passion, however misplaced," the speaker said, and like magic the room grew quiet at the sound of his voice. "But the sad truth is, not everyone out there has the luxury of that kind of choice. Are you prepared to tell me that there aren't any mutants in the world whose powers are a genuine threat to their peers? Who would benefit from some self-control, but would never submit to any kind of help? That you haven't come across one in your own lifetime?" There was some murmurs from the back, and the blue mutant was drawn back into line.

The speaker smiled broadly at the news cameras. "Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for change. For a new type of therapy- one that will help child mutants learn to control their powers, to channel them into doing good for their society. That is why I am proud to announce the creation of a MCA- sanctioned juvenile detention facility and rehabilitation center, designed to help these unfortunate souls find balance. We will begin recruiting immediately."

The room erupted into screams and cheers, the mutants at the back being forcibly restrained by security. The paparazzi pressed forward, and parents hugged terrified-looking children.

Graydon Creed smiled. "The Friends of Humanity Academy will open in six months. I hope to see you all at the opening."

* * *

 **If this wasn't entirely clear, this story takes place directly after Season 4: the world has become terrified of the mutant menace and parents want to keep their children safe. So what better way than to sign them up for the most prestigious new boarding school?**

 **Obviously, the Friends of Humanity Academy is anything but friendly, and it caters to all ages of young mutants, having run for five years by the time this story begins. However, I need only a couple for the story- I've decided on eight characters for the mains (four new students, four students who are already enrolled), and a couple of minor recurring characters.**

 **These teenagers can be at the Academy for a variety of reasons- shipped off by paranoid parents, sent from other juvenile facilities, or even signed up themselves out of a need for help. They only have one thing in common- they have very little to no control over their mutant powers, and all of them want freedom.**

 **This is not first-come, first-serve; I will wait until I have a good variety of characters. A few rules:**

 **One: No Mary Sues or Gary Stus. Not everyone is beautiful beyond reason, not everyone has a tragic past. Be creative, and be unique!**

 **Two: Fill out the entire form (no "You choose") and BE DESCRIPTIVE AND DETAILED! If "Backstory" is nothing but "He grew up with mean parents and then they sent him to the Academy" I have NOTHING to work with.**

 **Three: There will be no canon relationships (i.e. OC/Canon character). However, there WILL be romances between OCs. Keep that in mind.**

 **Four: Feel free to submit multiple OCs. I only ask they have no relationship to each other (family, friend, etc.) as it makes it too difficult if one is accepted and the other isn't.**

 **Have fun! If you need the form, it's also on my profile.**

* * *

 **Name:**

 **Nicknames (Both friendly and cruel):**

 **Codename:**

 **Age (12-18):**

 **Gender:**

 **Sexuality:**

 **Powers:**

 **What about their powers can't they control? ("Too powerful" doesn't count! It has to be something major enough to get them sent away):**

 **Appearance (REMEMBER RULE #1 AND 2!):**

 **Celebrity Look-Alike (No twelve year olds who look thirty, please):**

 **Personality (Not just a list of words; I need elaboration):**

 **History (How they grew up, power development, why they got sent away. Details!):**

 **How long have they been at the Academy? (I need four newbies, four oldies):**

 **Likes:**

 **Dislikes:**

 **What kind of people are they friends with?:**

 **What kind of people are their enemies?:**

 **What kind of people would they date (and do you want them to have a relationship in the story?):**

 **Biggest Secret:**

 **Greatest Fears:**

 **Personal Belongings (No clothes- the Academy has a uniform. Imagine you're allowed to pack them a backpack of important possessions):**

 **At least FOUR good examples of dialogue:**

 **At least THREE plotline ideas for them:**

 **How would you like them introduced?:**

 **Anything else I should know?:**


	2. Chapter 2

**No worries- I'm far from done picking OCs. Current cast list at the bottom, there are still plenty of spots open! Also- none of the students mentioned in this chapter are accepted characters- just side characters of my own creation. They will not feature in the story.**

 **This is to give you a better idea of just what happens behind the walls of the Friends of Humanity Academy- and I assure you, it's NOTHING like Xavier's Institute.**

* * *

DAILY SCHEDULE: 12-18 YEAR OLD STUDENTS

 **6 AM: WAKE UP**

 _Each student will be awake, out of bed with bed made, and fully dressed in their uniform by 6:15. At 6:15, the Dorm Monitor will do a daily inspection of each dorm. Failure to meet expectations will result in a demerit._

* * *

"Carrie?"

The twelve-year-old girl sniffed, shivering in bare feet. Alongside her, nineteen other twelve-year-olds watched her, eyes wide in terror. Each was dressed exactly the same- red plaid skirt, black sweater, red tie, hair tied into a ponytail. Twenty pairs of knees were shaking in their black knee-highs. But only nineteen pairs of shoes were present. Carrie stared down at her toes, shaking.

In front of her, a teenage boy with acne on his forehead bent at the waist and grinned kindly. He wore the black blazer of the upper students, but with one special addition. A silver badge glinted on his lapel. DM- Dorm Monitor. None of the girls made eye contact with him. "Carrie?" he asked again. "Where are your shoes and socks?"

Carrie's back began to shake more violently. A single teardrop dripped silently to the floor. One of the girls next to her, a thin girl with bright red hair and silvery eyes, reached out a tentative hand to grab hers.

"Melissa!" barked the Dorm Monitor, and twenty little girls jumped. Melissa's hand snapped back to her side, and atop her head, two tiny fox ears swiveled back. The Dorm Monitor's expression took on a tinge of disgust at the sight, but he soon smiled again as he turned back to his target. "Carrie? Where are they?" Carrie's shaking grew worse. She hiccupped, and raised her hands. Crumpled in each hand was a black sock, and the Monitor raised his eyebrows. "Well there they are!" he said, pleased. "Now, why aren't those on your feet?"

Carrie lowered her head, attempting to hide behind her blonde hair. She mumbled something.

"Louder, sweetie pie."

"I can't find my shoes," the little girl whispered. The girls around her looked away.

The Monitor straightened up, putting his hands on his hips. His smile hadn't dropped. "You can't?" he asked happily. Carrie shook her head slowly. "Well, that's too bad! Isn't that too bad, girls?"

"Yes," chorused twenty soft voices.

"Now, everyone wearing shoes gets to go to breakfast," the Monitor declared. The girls looked from their roommate to the Monitor, faces hesitant. His smile dropped for an instant. "NOW." All nineteen scurried from the room, leaving a silently crying Carrie alone. The Monitor knelt in front of her, putting a finger under her chin and raising her head to look at him. "Now, we can't have our students walking around without shoes and socks, can we?"

Carrie hiccupped again. "Do I get a demerit?"

The Monitor's face grew concerned. "Oh honey, of course you don't. You get _two_. One for shoes, one for socks."

Carrie broke down crying in earnest, loud sobs shaking her from. The Monitor patted her lightly on the head, walking from the room.

"Now, stay here until you find those shoes. And breakfast is over in forty-five minutes, so… look fast, honey bun."

* * *

 **6:30 AM: BREAKFAST**

 _Students must sit and eat the entirety of their meal. Failure to clear a tray earns one demerit._

 **7:15 AM: INDIVIDUAL CHECK-INS**

 _Each student will sit on their bed until contacted by their Monitor, doing a quiet activity. They will then report to a five-minute mandatory meeting with their Social Worker. This is time to discuss any concerns each student may have, as well as catch up on the events of the previous day. Failure to report to the meeting earns one demerit._

* * *

The boy sat quietly, arms crossed and eyes focused on his shoes.

"Now, Daniel. I can't help you unless you help yourself."

The boy didn't respond.

"Daniel, while it isn't mandatory for you to speak at these meetings, I just want you to know that I am only here to support you. I will do everything in my power to help you."

The boy's eyes flicked upwards.

"Believe me. Together, we can find a way to fix you."

The boy scrunched down in the armchair, eyes trained on the ground. He did not look up again.

* * *

 **9:15 AM: PHYSICAL EDUCATION**

 **10:15 AM: SHOWERS**

 **11:30 AM: DAILY CHORES**

 _Each student must complete the chore they have signed up for. As the oldest students, it is your responsibility to keep the Academy running. Failure to do so will result in a demerit._

 **12:15 PM: LUNCH**

 **1 PM: GROUP SESSION**

 _Students of the same age group will report to their assigned classrooms, and participate in group sessions. These sessions are mandatory, failure to report to a session will result in a demerit._

* * *

The counselor folded her hands together. "Alright. Good afternoon, everyone! How is everyone today?"

Forty teenagers stared back at her silently, circled together on uncomfortable folding chairs.

She smiled cheerfully. "Well, then. Let's begin with our daily affirmation."

Reluctantly, the teenagers joined hands and in one monotone voice they spoke a few lines, memorized over the course of days, weeks, months, or even years.

 _I am broken._

 _I am damaged._

 _I am wrong._

 _I recognize my own flaws, and will try to fix them._

 _I will fix them with the help of this Academy._

 _Alone, I have no hope._

 _Alone, I am nothing._

* * *

 **2 PM: FREE TIME**

 _Students may spend time in the outside yard. They may not venture beyond the walls of the Academy._

 **4 PM: SHOWERS**

 **5 PM: PHONE TIME**

 _Students may take this time to call their families or friends. Phone calls are monitored by Dorm Monitors. Calls may not exceed two minutes. Academy activities may not be discussed, or a demerit will be issued._

* * *

"Go on, Costa," the Monitor urged cheerfully.

The boy stared at the phone in his hand. He noticed, dimly, that his fingers were shaking. Hesitantly, he punched in seven numbers.

She picked up after one ring.

 _"_ _Hello?"_

In that one word were Christmases spent next to a fire. Summer trips to the beach. A special kind of sauce that she put on the hamburgers. A hand that used to brush across his forehead and tell him everything was going to be alright.

The boy swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Mom?"

There were two breaths at the other end of the line. One sudden, drawn in through the nose. The second was slower, more resigned.

The line went dead.

The boy held the phone next to his ear until the Monitor took it and hung it up. He could still hear the dial tone when he was trying to fall asleep.

* * *

 **6 PM: DINNER**

 **7 PM: MED CALL**

 **8 PM: NIGHTLY ASSEMBLY**

 _Students must assemble in the lecture hall each night for the Credit and Demerit ceremonies. These assemblies are mandatory, failure to be written in attendance will result in two demerits. There is no talking permitted during the assemblies._

* * *

"…and to Miss Francis Sawyer, two credits are awarded for perfect attendance for three months today."

A small round of dutiful applause, and the room was silent again. There was an uneasy tightness to the room, as though the walls were holding their breath. Uneasy glances were being passed around the room.

At the front of the room, behind a large podium, stood Headmaster Graydon Creed. He smiled benignly out at his students, leaning towards his microphone. "Boys and girls. I see so much potential in every one of you. So much growth. So much progress. In a way, I see this entire school… as a giant ship."

Around the room, hundreds of students mouthed _"as a giant ship"_ silently.

"A ship with paddles, and a drummer at the front. I am your captain, children. Keeping you in time. And for the ship to move forward, each rower must row in unison. And yet, I continue to see more and more of you rowing in the opposite direction. Is that fair to the rest of us? To stop our boat from moving forward?" There was a strong silence.

Doors in the back swung open, and a row of armored guards strode into the room in loud harmony. They marched down the center aisle, dragging three limp forms in their wake. After finally reaching the front of the room, the three forms were thrown to the ground.

Students. Boys, each around fifteen. Their faces were bruised and cut, their skin and hair was filthy, and their uniforms had been ripped to pieces. They lay on the stage of the auditorium, groaning and attempting to massage their bruised muscles.

Graydon pulled one boy to his knees, ignoring his cries of pain. The boy's head lolled to the side, showing off green scaled skin. His eyes were both luminously black, like a shark's eyes. Graydon smiled kindly down at him, holding the microphone to his face. "What's your name, son?"

The boy stared into the audience, a spark of defiance in his eyes. "Hydro."

Graydon's smile hardened, along with his grip. The boy cried out in pain, shaking his head. "MICHAEL! Michael!"

"Thank you. Now, Michael, do you know why you're up here? Do you know why this has happened?"

Michael blinked, eyelids sliding across his eyes sideways. "Because we ran away."

"Because you _tried_ to run away," Graydon corrected smoothly. "And what happened?"

"Your stupid lap dogs caught us."

"The guards apprehended you, that's what happened, Michael," Graydon said through a gritted smile. "They apprehended you because the three of you were trying to destroy what we've spent five years building."

"We were trying to be free!" One of the boys behind Michael had sat up, and was clawing his way to the front of the stage, shouting to the rest of the student body. "We were trying to get out of here! This isn't school! This is Hell! We're in HELL! We're DYING!" Without missing a beat, two of the guards gripped him under the arms and threw him to the floor with a sickening crack. The boy shouted in pain, and Michael flinched. Graydon didn't move.

"Now, Michael, you know the rules, don't you?" Michael nodded. "What happens once a student gets ten demerits in one month?"

Michael's face paled to a light mint color.

"What happens, Michael?"

Michael swallowed. "The Box," he whispered into the microphone. A cold shiver spread through the room.

"That's right. Good boy," Graydon said affectionately. "Now, how many demerits had you earned in the last month?"

"Five," Michael said in a stronger tone. A small amount of tension left the room.

"Oh, Michael," Graydon clucked his tongue. "Quite a few. What for?"

"One for n-not making my bed. One for talking back to my Monitor. One for m-missing my-"

"Now, that's enough. Hm… how many demerits do you suppose running away would be?"

If Michael's face held any color, it left now.

"I'd say you're all at an even ten," Graydon said cheerfully. He released Michael's arm, which was quickly grabbed up by a guard. "Have a lovely evening, boys."

The three boys started to shout, pleading that they would never misbehave again. They were dragged from the hall. Graydon leaned on the podium, smiling out at his students.

All of them made the journey with the boys in their minds. Down the hall. After the classrooms. The one locked door none of them had seen behind- the one none of them wanted to see behind.

They waited in silence.

It only took five minutes for the screaming to start, but it seemed like an hour before it began to lessen in volume. All of the students flinched with each shriek that echoed weirdly against the walls. They had seen this- had heard this- happen dozens of times, but each time felt like the first. The unrestrained sobbing. The cries for mercy that soon dissolved from words to frantic keening and gibberish. All were different. Some simply cried. Others had no tears, but simply shouts of terror. One memorable eighteen-year-old boy had started screaming for his mother.

Eventually, two of the voices died out. Only one was left screaming for mercy- Michael's voice. The boy was holding on. The students in the auditorium squeezed their eyes shut, wanting to block out the sounds but not daring to cover their ears. Almost all of the twelve-year-olds were crying into their hands. One girl had passed out.

Finally, Michael let out one last shriek. The room fell deathly silent. No one moved. No one breathed.

Graydon Creed smiled widely.

"That will be all. Good night, students."

In one shaky voice, they answered.

 _"_ _Good night, Headmaster."_

* * *

 **9 PM: PERSONAL TIME IN DORMS**

 **10 PM: BED**

 _All students must be in their beds, lights out, quiet, by ten. Failure to do so will result in a demerit. Under no circumstances are students allowed out after bed._

* * *

The fifteen year old boys' dorm was silent that night. They prepared for bed in silence. No one spoke to each other, save a few looks back and forth.

The lights went off. The Monitors poked their heads inside. Then, after thirty minutes, the doors creaked open. No one moved. The boys held their breath.

Heavy boots marched to three beds. Three bodies were thrown onto the covers. The boots marched to the door. It opened and closed.

The boys managed to stay still for almost one minute.

Whispers began to spring up. Flashlights turned on. Feet tiptoed over the wooden floors.

 _"_ _Michael? Jack? Eric?"_

A flashlight found their three faces. Some of the boys slapped their hands over their mouths to keep from screaming. Some of them had to cover the mouth of the person next to them after a few short cries were heard.

The escapees were no longer covered in mud. Their wounds had been patched up, their hair was still wet from a shower. They had been changed into clean pajamas, and lay on their backs with their hands placed neatly onto their chests.

The boys continued to whisper for their friends to answer, but it never came. The flashlights moved to their shallowly-rising chests, their feet, and their folded hands.

Anything but their slackened faces, and their dead eyes that stared without seeing. Anything to put off what they all knew.

The boys were gone.

* * *

 **Hope you liked this glance into the Academy! The story will begin once I get a selection of characters that I find interesting and dynamic to write about.**

 **If your character is not here, THAT DOES NOT MEAN IT'S A BAD OC! It only means I don't have as many ideas of what to do with them. If you want to alter your OC and resubmit, I wouldn't mind.**

 **A few pieces of advice: "nice" or "friendly" is not interesting personality-wise. I need something with meat, something I can work with. Add dimension to your OC! Also- keep adding details! "I don't know" or "I'm not good at this" is not an excuse. And finally, KEEP THEIR BACKSTORIES BELIEVEABLE. Not everyone needs to go through seventeen separate tragedies before they turn twelve.**

 **Below is the current cast list. Please note what is still open, and what personality types are already there.**

 **If you've been accepted, please answer the following questions over PM:**

 **1\. How has or how will your character adapt to life in the Academy?**

 **2\. What do you think is in The Box?**

 **NEW STUDENTS:**

 **BOY #1:** **Robbie Burghley (18),** **rough around the edges after a life spent running away. [From Rougeification]**

 **BOY #2:** **Eugene Lee (16),** **blessed (or cursed) with a physical mutation that turns him into a serpentine monster- yet in possession of sweet personality and maternal instinct. [From ThatSummerinWonderland]**

 **BOY #3:**

 **GIRL #1:**

 **GIRL #2:**

 **GIRL #3:**

 **OLD STUDENTS:**

 **BOY #1:** **Henry Dodson (18),** **Alpha male of the Academy, egotistical and for good reason- he's everyone's favorite. [From Kassidy10]**

 **BOY #2:** **Wesley Bloomfield (14),** **a troublemaker who loves being the center of attention- no matter what he has to do to earn it. [From motordog]**

 **BOY #3:**

 **GIRL #1:**

 **GIRL #2:**

 **GIRL #3:**

 **So! I still need TWO BOYS and SIX GIRLS! Y'all need to start sending in more girl OCs! Get going, and don't be afraid to send in multiple OCs.**


End file.
